In This Life
by Tarnished Beauty
Summary: It had been so long since she had gone. Harry had given up hope. But... perhaps there is still a flicker of light in that darkness.
1. A Chance

_**In This Life**_

Chapter 1

_I'll be the grapes fermented,  
__Bottled and served with the table set in my finest suit  
__Like a perfect gentlemen  
__I'll be the fire escape that's bolted to the ancient brick  
__Where you will sit and contemplate your day_

_I'll be the water wings that save you if you start drowning  
__In an open tab when your judgment's on the brink  
__I'll be the phonograph that plays your favorite  
__Albums back as you're lying there drifting off to sleep..._

_I'll be the platform shoes and undo what heredity's done to you...  
__You won't have to strain to look into my eyes  
__I'll be your winter coat buttoned and zipped straight to the throat  
__With the collar up so you won't catch a cold_

_I want to take you far from the cynics in this town  
__And kiss you on the mouth  
__We'll cut out bodies free from the tethers of this scene,  
__Start a brand new colony  
__Where everything will change,  
__We'll give ourselves new names  
__Identities erased  
__The sun will heat the grounds  
__Under our bare feet in this brand new colony  
__Everything will change_

_-"Brand New Colony," The Postal Service_

»-»-»

Harry Potter was slouched into a chair in his flat off of Diagon Alley, twirling a quill between two fingers. Although he was supposed to be completing some paperwork for the Order, of which he was now heading, he was deep in thought. About what, you ask? It's pretty easy to guess.

"Happy _fucking_ birthday, Harry Potter," he muttered to himself. Exactly 16 years ago, on his birthday, Hermione Granger had left for an exchange year at an American wizarding school and had disappeared from his life. He hadn't heard from her or seen her since. But the one thing he did remember was that kiss… and those words… He remembered everything about that time.

He let out a sort of anguished grunt and muttered to himself, "But what the hell did she _mean?_" He stood up to get something to drink, turned around… and jumped three feet into the air. "Oi! RON! How long has your bloody head been sitting in the fire?"

"Long enough," he said with a grin. "So, it's your 32nd birthday, eh, Harry? How do you feel, you old fartbag?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Oh, just shut it, you," he said waving the fire tongs in a threatening way.

"Oi, I didn't mean anything by it, all right, mate? Looks like you're having a bad day and- PUT THOSE TONGS DOWN, DAMMIT. But _anyway, _I've got just the thing to cheer you up. Okay, are you ready for this? A two-week long trip to America with your fake niece, Shelley!"

Ron and Luna had married right after Luna had graduated. Two years later, they gave birth to a girl, Shelley, who was now 13. Harry wasn't _officially_ her uncle, but that didn't stop Ron and Luna (and Shelley) from referring to him as Uncle Harry, and to Shelley as Harry's "fake niece." Not that Harry minded, of course.

Harry arched one eyebrow. "Honestly, Ron, of all the transparent schemes to get me out of the house…"

Ron shook his head, and Harry imagined he would be waving his hands dismissively if he could've. "Look, you know it's her birthday in a couple of weeks, and we promised we'd take her to America, but we've got this assignment for The Quibbler. So Luna and I figured, who better to take our place then her dear Uncle Harry? She seems to like you more then me anyways."

Harry chuckled. "Come on, Ron, you are her father, and I am only the greatest hunk in all of Wizarding London, as well as the winner of _Witch Weekly's_ Most Eligible Bachelor award 7 years in a row, and I would have gotten more if I had been eligible but you had to be at least 25, and I'm also the Sexiest Man Alive according to _Teen Witch_ and-"

Harry was cut off by Ron chucking a loose rock from his hearth at Harry. "Oi, watch it, you," Harry cried. "You could've taken my head off!"

"Right, well, back on track, then," Ron said, pretending not to hear Harry. "Please, Harry, will you do it? Please? She's been looking forward to this for _weeks_, Harry!"

Harry sighed and rolled his eyes. "All right, fine, but I'm not paying."

"That's all taken care of," Ron said quite cheerfully. "Lupin's going to take over for you at the Order while you're gone, by the way. You fly out day after tomorrow to Logan International Airport near Boston, and then it's open road from there! You can go wherever you want, just as long as you make sure you're back in two weeks at the airport to fly home. Come on over tomorrow and we'll get everything organized!" Ron's head disappeared with a _whoosh_, leaving Harry slumped over in his chair, wondering what he had gotten himself into.

»-»-»

Harry was standing at the terminal at Heathrow Airport, waiting patiently for Luna and Ron to finish fawning over Shelley. He took a glance over, seeing Ron grinning broadly at his 13-year-old baby girl and her bright red Weasley Hair (he smiled, remembering how, when she was born, Ron had pumped his fist and shouted "Yesss! The Weasley genes live on!").

"Oi, Ron, hate to disrupt you but they're giving the final boarding call," Harry said to Ron, who was squeezing Shelley so tightly her eyeballs were bugging out.

"Oh, right, sorry," he said, releasing her after giving her one last huge kiss on the forehead. Shelley smiled gratefully at Harry.

"All right, mum, dad, I'll see you in two weeks!" she said, walking over with her carry-on bag to get on the plane.

"Bye, sweetie, and don't forget to write," Luna cried, tears running down her face.

Shelley turned and smiled at her Uncle Harry, who smiled back. "Ready to go, then?" he asked her quietly.

"Beyond," she murmured back, and they both laughed softly and strode onto the plane.

»-»-»

After they had settled down in the smooshy leather seats in first class, Shelley turned to Harry and said, "You know, I had plans for my birthday but this is way, way better."

Harry looked at her and arched one eyebrow. "Your father told me you had been looking forward to this for _weeks._"

Shelley rolled her eyes. "Silly man, my father. He only _told_ me about it two days ago."

Harry grinned, his thoughts confirmed by the glorious girl sitting beside him. "Interesting, very interesting," he said. "So, Shelley, tell me, how's your life been since I last saw you?"

Shelley told him all sorts of things about her life, but she could tell that he was thinking of other things. "Uncle Harry?"

"Hmm, Shelley?"

"Who's Hermione?"

Harry sucked in his breath sharply. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, it's just that mum and dad sometimes start to talk about her when they don't notice me but when they do they just sort of cut off…"

Harry sighed. Well, why not? It was time to come to terms with it anyway. "Hermione was one of what was sometimes called the 'Golden Trio' at Hogwarts- me, your father, and her. We were all in Gryffindor and we were all inseparable. Then, at the end of her sixth year, she went to America for an exchange year and nobody ever heard from her again… as far as I know, she hasn't even contacted her parents."

"You were in love with her, weren't you?" Shelley said matter-of-factly.

Harry smiled at her. "You know, you're very perceptible. Yes, I think I was in love with her… no, I know I was in love with her. When she left, though, I didn't want to tell her and hold her back. Now I regret not saying anything… but I still recall what she had said to me right before she got on the plane… '_I love you._' And then she kissed me on the mouth and walked onto the plane. She didn't respond to anything I said when I called after her. I have no idea what she meant by it. Did she love me platonically, or did she love me like a woman is supposed to love a man?" He stared off into space for a while, watching the clouds go by.

"How much can you tell me about her? I mean," she added hastily, "if you don't want to talk about her it's fine, but-"

"No," he said, smiling, "it's fine. Well, to start off, she was the most brilliant witch I had ever met, and most likely still is. She's a Muggleborn…" He spent almost an hour telling her everything about Hermione- how he met her, how he befriended her, everything. Shelley just watched with a knowing smile on her face. Oh, yes, her uncle was madly in love with this Hermione, and it sounds like Hermione was in love with her uncle just as much, if not more.

»-»-»

The remainder of the flight was spent in deep conversation between Harry and his "fake niece." They ate the airplane food served without really tasting it, and were surprised when the airplane landed at Logan International Airport near Boston.

"So, Shelley, sweetie, you ready to go?" Harry asked, visibly excited but pretending that he wasn't.

"Get your butt up out of that seat and into the airport. Hurry up! I want to get to America!"

»-»-»

Author's Note: Sequel! Whee! I wrote this when I was still on Ch. 12 of I Miss You, but the idea was floating around in my head. By the way, this is the sequel to I Miss You, in case you're new. You don't _have_ to read it for everything to make sense, but it would be good.

P.S. I LOVE THIS CHAPTER.

P.P.S. Need I remind you that reviews are my food? I feed off them.

--Sara


	2. Exploration

**In This Life**

_Chapter 2_

_Lines on your face don't bother me  
Down in my chair when you dance over me  
I can't help myself  
I've got to see you again _

Late in the night when I'm all alone  
And I look at the clock and I know you're not home  
I can't help myself  
I've got to see you again  
I could almost go there  
Just to watch you be seen  
I could almost go there  
Just to live in a dream

But no I won't go for any of those things  
To not touch your skin is not why I sing  
I can't help myself  
I've got to see you again

I could almost go there  
Just to watch you be seen  
I could almost go there  
Just to live in a dream

No, I won't go to share you with them  
But, oh, even though I know where  
You've been  
I can't help myself  
I've got to see you again

_-"I've Got To See You Again," Norah Jones_

»-»-»

Shelley was sitting cross-legged on a squeaky double bed in a Holiday Inn near Boston, still totally in awe about where she was. _America._ And with Harry Potter! Something big was going to happen; she knew it. She didn't know what, but she could feel it.

"So, Shelley, we've got 2 weeks, a car, a map, and unlimited money courtesy of your father, who clearly has no foresight. Where to first?"

Shelley giggled, pulling out a map of the East Coast. "Umm… well, I was thinking about it on the way over, and I think we should go to Rhode Island, then Connecticut, and then to New York. You know, go in a kind of circle, if that's okay with you." She looked up at him.

Harry shrugged. "It's your trip. That sounds good, though. Why Rhode Island?"

"I dunno," she said, "it just seems like the kind of place that would be fun. I mean, it's got pretty much everything, and it's really peaceful and everything. I'm big on that. I love city life in London but it's really nice to have some quiet every now and then, you know?"

Harry nodded in her direction.

He definitely knew.

»-»-»

So it was the next morning, that Harry and Shelley were found lugging two huge suitcases in each of their hands out to the compact car they had rented. By 8:00, they were checked out of the hotel and sitting in the car. Harry sighed. He was going to have fun on this trip if it _killed_ him. He plastered on a big grin and turned to her. "Okay; you ready?"

"Yup! I've got it all figured out. Today we've got to drive to Attleboro on I-95. That's only about 25 miles. Then we can stay at a bed-and-breakfast or something and pick it up from there."

Harry, still trying to keep up his spirits, put his hands on the steering wheel, keeping the fake grin plastered on. _Yes, this is where Hermione is. Okay, sure, not necessarily _here_-here, but somewhere in the country, none-the-less. Why had you never bothered to ask, idiot? You're never going to see her anyway. It's fine. Stop mourning. Get over it._

"All righty, then, let's go," he said, and turned the key in the ignition. "This is it… the official beginning!" He turned on the radio and told Shelley to pick the station. She switched from one selection to another until she found an alternative rock song that she liked. Harry listened and hummed along, stopping every now and then to point historical sitings or interesting aspects out to the young girl.

They arrived at Attleboro around 9:00 due to the rush-hour traffic, and went to find somewhere to eat breakfast and rest for the next couple of nights. They ended up eating at a diner called "Nan's" and then registering for three days at the Colonel Blackington Inn.

Shelley, who, for the time being, seemed oblivious to Harry's view of the trip, was incredibly excited. "Oh, Uncle Harry, this is going to be so much fun! You know, of all of Dad's bizarre friends, you're my favorite," she said with a grin.

Harry pretended to think about it for a second. "Heyyyyyy… that wasn't very nice."

Shelley giggled. "Come on. I want to go and take a look in the shops for a while. Can we? _Pleeeease_?"

"Oh, God," Harry groaned, "Don't make the angel face. NOT THE ANGEL FACE! You know I can't resist the angel face. All right, fine, we'll go. Just lead the way."

"Excellent." Shelley took off walking, leaving Harry in her wake. She turned back when she saw that he was about six feet behind her and giggled, "Come _on_, aren't you coming already?"

»-»-»

"Aww, _another_ one?" Harry groaned when Shelley turned into another bath shop. There were only so many different smelly stores a man can handle while still retaining his dignity. "Ah, well, it is her birthday trip. I must be _somewhat_ tolerant."

Just then, he spotted a bookstore. Salvation! (Boy, never thought he'd think _that._) "Heyyyy, Shelley? I'm just going to head into that bookstore over there and look at books... And stuff. So come and get me when you're finished sniffing soaps and hugging towels and the like."

Shelley nodded to show that she heard him and went back to discussing scents with the woman working at the cash register.

»-»-»

Harry pushed in the door to the bookstore. Somewhere in the back, a bell rang. He took a look around. The store was of moderate size, with a register next to the door and shelves lining the walls and running through the center of the store. At the register was a woman who was very clearly engrossed in a telephone call she was making and didn't even appear to hear him come in.

"So he sent you flowers, right? Aww, how sweet. Not. Asshole. I hope you sent them- good, you sent them back. Sometimes guys just have to learn the hard way that you can't buy a woman some pretty smelly things and hope that it's all better. You know? You gotta put your _heart _into- hold on a sec," she said, just noticing Harry.

She placed her hand over the receiver. "Excuse me… excuse me, sir?" she said, trying to catch the attention of Harry, who was currently looking at a copy of _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi._ This was a wizarding bookstore! He had just figured it out now, and boy, was he proud of-

"Excuse me! Excuse me, sir! Are you Harry Potter?"

Harry jumped out of his reverie and back into reality by the pretty looking young girl at the cash register. She reminded him of someone… someone… but who?

"Yes… yes, I'm Harry Potter," he muttered. He had been hoping that there wouldn't be any of this in the States.

"Oh. It's too bad my sister isn't here. I think she would _love_ to see you. Sweet Merlin," she murmured. "Her description sure didn't do you justice."

"Ah… yes… ahem. Well, lovely meeting you…" he drifted off, not having a name.

"Bella. Well, Isobella, actually, but just call me Bella."

"Right. Lovely meeting you, Bella, but I've got to run. My niece is in that bath and body store across the street."

"All right, then, nice to meet you!"

As Harry was leaving, he heard Bella get back onto the phone. "Sorry to keep you waiting, Becks, but guess who just walked into the store? Harry Potter...! _I KNOW!_"

He turned to leave and then, all of a sudden, out of the corner of his eye, he could have sworn he saw Hermione. Hermione! Walking down the street! He raced outside… Only to discover that it was a 40-year-old woman with piggy eyes and two small children. _Get a grip, Potter...! You're losing it._

»-»-»

Harry walked quickly towards the bath and body shop and was about to walk inside when Shelley came out with the girl that had been working at the counter moments before. "Uncle Harry, this is Amelia. If it's all right with you, I'm going to go over to her house for a while and hang out."

Harry shrugged. "Sure. Where's her house and what time do you want me to pick you up?"

Amelia spoke up. "You can come around for dinner if you want later, sir. Our house is about 6 blocks ahead and one block to the right. 6621 Oak Street."

Harry smiled at her. "I might just take you up on that. How about I come around 8? Is that all right?"

They both nodded. "All right, then," he said, "I'll take the car so we don't have to walk in the dark. Have fun, Shelley! Nice to meet you, Amelia."

They turned and walked down the street. "Ron would kill me if he knew," he said to himself with a grin.

But Ron didn't _have _to know, now did he?

»-»-»

Harry spent the rest of the day browsing in the stores and ate lunch at a little café. When he got back to the inn around 7, he sat down to write Ron a message.

_Dear Ron (and Luna):_

_Things are going great over here. We arrived in Boston without a hitch. Stayed there overnight and are now in Attleboro, Massachusetts; we've got a hotel room reserved for 3 nights and we'll just sort of wing it from there. Just writing to fill you in on things. Shelley sends her best wishes (although she's out with a friend that she's made-(yes, already)- but I'm sure she'd want you to have her love). Have fun with the Quibbler assignment!_

_-Harry_

8:00 came around, and Harry arrived at Amelia's house to pick up Shelley. He climbed out of the tiny car that had yet to be relieved of its suitcases, and walked up to the front door. He rang the doorbell and, when it was answered, said, "Hi, I'm here to pick up Sh-" He had just gotten a glimpse of who had opened the front door and suddenly understood what it felt like to have the Sahara Desert sitting in his mouth.

"_HARRY?"_

»-»-»

Author's Note: I don't know if I've told you how much I love this story. But I do. Anyways, I heard this mystery story yesterday. You know that blue box in the lowerleft hand corner? Under the story? If you click on it, there's supposed to be something that makes the author really happy.

…Just a rumor, though.

P.S. You're not going to see another one of these until after I get back on the 29th, so MERRY CHRISTMAS!

P.P.S. Sorry this is so late- had exams and other things to take care of. Haven't been on the compie in the week. –strokes it lovingly-

**Daleia**: Either they don't know where she is or they're not letting on because she's asked them not to… but we'll find out about that later. ;D

**Sodasgirl678:** Hmm, I don't know. Hadn't thought of that. I think he works there… I can just see him wandering around and being totally serious and asking people if they've spotted any nargles recently.


	3. Someone Familiar

**In This Life**

_Chapter 3_

_Come here, please hold my hand for now  
Help me, I'm scared please show me how to fight this,  
God has a master plan  
And I guess  
I am in his demand  
Please save me this time I cannot run  
And I'll see you when this is done  
And now I have come to realize  
That you are the one who's left behind_

Please stay until I'm gone  
I'm here hold on to me I'm right here  
Waiting

I see, a light it feels good  
And I'll come back soon just like you would  
It's useless, my name has made the list  
And I wish, I gave you one last kiss

Please stay until I'm gone  
I'm here hold on to me I'm right here  
Waiting and take  
My one last breath, and don't forget  
That I will be right here  
Waiting

_-"Not Now," blink-182_

»-»-»

Harry stood, his jaw dragging on the ground, in front of an amazed Ginny Weasley.

"Harry, it's great to see you! How have you been? I haven't heard from you in so long; I expect this is my brothers' daughter and not yours, unless, by -- oh, drat, I'm rambling. Come here, you," she said in one breath, and then pulled him into a huge, tight, suffocating bear hug.

After being released from Ginny's hug, Harry stood back and shook his head a bit. It was all just way too coincidental that they were both standing right here, in front of each other, in the USA, together... Except… wait, he actually knew, somewhere, in the deep recesses of his mind, that Ginny lived around here.

"Ginny, hey, I… hi. Long time no see," he finally managed out after much time was spent debating on what to say.

"Oh, don't just _stand_ there," she said, poking him in the ribs. "Come on in. Draco's at the country club right now, by the way." She rolled her eyes. "You know; there are just some habits that can't be broken, right?"

Ginny had married Draco Malfoy almost 14 years ago, after Lucius Malfoy was imprisoned. Draco had inherited Malfoy Manor, of course, but turned it down and instead donated it to the Ministry of Magic to use as a Dark Arts museum for those who were interested in it. After the birth of Amelia, they moved, to the chagrin of Mrs. Weasley, to Attleboro, Massachusetts, and settled down. Obviously, they were still there.

Harry knew all of that. He was mentally kicking himself for not noticing all of the signs. Well, besides totally forgetting that Ginny and Draco lived there. Thinking back, he realized that Amelia had a perfect shade of strawberry-blonde hair and her father's silver eyes.

Ginny had led Harry into the kitchen and was busy bustling around and talking nonstop. "So, how are things over in London? I haven't been over there in so long; I hardly know what it's like anymore. I've almost forgotten! And see, I've even almost completely lost my accent. Draco's still got his, of course, because he thinks that it makes him sound distinguished. Go figure. So, why are you here with Shelley anyways?"

Harry had been trying to keep up with everything Ginny said, but had only retained the last sentence. "What?" he asked, surprised at being able to talk. "Oh. Well, Ron has been trying to get me out of the house, because he says I've been really mopey lately. So he planned for me to bring Shelley here for her birthday. We're road-tripping." He grinned. "Ron tried to get me to believe that they had planned the trip beforehand but 'something had come up.' Yeah, sure."

Sighing, Ginny sat down with two teacups and a pot of tea. "You know, Harry, you do have a tendency to sulk… especially around your birthday," she said quietly.

Harry stiffened, automatically switching into defensive mode. "You know very well what happened on my birthday," he hissed. "Sixteen frickin' years ago, it happened, and I haven't heard a word from her since. _Sixteen years._"

Ginny glanced down at the table and bit her lip. God, Hermione would _kill_ her if she found out… "Harry… I know where she is."

»-»-»

**Author's Note:** Hello, all, it's been a luverly vacation in California. Umm… let's see. On JKR's website recently she stated that Hermione was sixteen in book 5, so I am aware that all the ages are messed up on everything. But I'm not going to change it. So, I'm sorry.

Also, **A SPECIAL SHOUT-OUT TO MY BETA-READER, CHIBI-SUIKO, WHO IS _NOT_ A "BE-IN-MY-BEDROOM-MAKING-NO-NOISE-AND-PRETENDING-I'M-NOT-THERE" TYPE OF BETA-ER.** (Chibi: I _know _that's right!) Rather, she is a victim of my own forgetfulness. Many, many apologies to you, my Chibi. And lots of love and stuff for being groovy. (Chibi: That's right, too!)

P.S. I am really, really, really sorry that it's not Hermione, but, come on, Harry can't just go wandering randomly and knocking on doors and then "oh, look, we've been reunited forever." Oh, no. That would make for a boring story. (Chibi: But it's okay for him to be wandering aimlessly through the outskirts of America, only to run into _another _friend he hasn't heard from in years, right...?) (Me: Shhhhh… ; )


	4. News

**In This Life**

_Chapter 4_

**Author's Note:** This baby is unbetaed. So apologies for any mistakes!

'_Cause you can't jump the track  
We're like cars on a cable_

_And life's like an hourglass glued to the table  
No one can find the rewind button, girl  
So just cradle your head in your hands.  
And breathe, just breathe_

_Whoa, breathe, just breathe_

_-"Breathe (2AM)," Anna Nalick_

»»»

Hermione Smithson sat at her desk staring at a photo of her with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. She turned it over, staring at it as she did every day before she went home. Her eyes started to mist over, and she shook herself out of her reverie, standing up and getting her bags. Pushing some of the small desks and chairs out of her way, she walked out the door, turned around, and locked it. She smiled at the door, looking over the drawings that were covering it. The heading at the top said, "Mrs. Smithson's First Grade Class" in large block letters.

She looked at her watch. It was already 6:30, and she was, once again, late to pick up Isobel. She sighed and ran outside to her car.

It was a fifteen-minute drive to Susan's house, where Izzy stayed every day until Hermione was finished with work. When Hermione pulled up at 6:50 and knocked at the door, Susan opened it tiredly and smiled at her, saying, "Hey, honey, how was work today?"

Susan had been like Hermione's second mother, taking care of Izzy any day that Hermione needed to work and refused pay for it. She was the first grade teacher that was retiring when Hermione was offered the job, and had taken a shining to Hermione, and later, Izzy. Since she was retired and all her children were grown up and had moved away, she was glad to take care of Izzy.

Hermione smiled back at her. "It was pretty good. Richard, one of the boys in my class, made me the cutest drawing. He's so adorable. They all are."

"Yeah," Susan said softly, "but are you happy?"

Hermione shrugged. "Of course I'm happy. I love teaching."

"No. I mean, are you _happy_?"

Hermione cast her eyes down. "I don't know. I'm not sure. I mean, I've got Izzy, what else do I need?"

There was an awkward silence, and the answer to that question was hanging in the air. Hermione cleared her throat. "So, is Izzy ready?"

"What? Oh, yeah, come on in, she's just finishing her grilled cheese sandwich."

»»»

Harry pushed his chair back and stood up, both shocked and angry. In fact, he wasn't just angry. He was positively fuming. "Ginerva Weasley Malfoy, you have ten seconds to explain why you didn't contact me as soon as you found out where she was."

Ginny paused, deliberating. What was she supposed to tell him? Deciding not to make things worse, she chose the truth. "Well, to start off, I knew where she was the entire time." Harry started to say something, but Ginny kept talking. "And, not that this lets me off the hook or anything, but…"

"But _what_?"

"…She didn't want me to."

As quickly as he had stood up, Harry sat back down. He felt lifeless. There had been many reasons why he thought that maybe Hermione wasn't trying to contact him, but this was most definitely _not_ one of them.

Ginny stood up and walked around the table to him. "Come here," she said, holding her arms out in a hug. Harry stood up resignedly and wrapped his arms around her, sighing.

"Look," she said, pulling away. "If it makes you feel any better, I'm going to tell you where you can find her, because Lord knows you need each other."

»»»

Hermione followed Susan into the kitchen, where a little girl with a very large and voluminous head of hair sat eating a sandwich and watching television. "Izzy, sweetie," she said, walking up to her and bending down to give her a hug. "It's time to go home."

Isobel gave a large, over-dramatic sigh. "Mom, there's ten more minutes left of Spongebob left. Can't I watch it? Pleeeease?"

"All right," Hermione said, smiling lovingly at her daughter. "We'll be in the living room if you need us. I'm coming to get you right in ten minutes, okay?"

She didn't respond; her eyes were already glued back to the television.

Hermione and Susan walked into the living room, and Hermione collapsed onto the couch, suddenly very tired. Susan sat down next to her. "Hermione? Are you all right? You just never seem like you're all there anymore. What's going on? Do you want to talk about it?"

Hermione closed her eyes and, for a moment, Susan thought she was asleep. But then her eyes opened again and, this time, there were tears shining in them. "Oh, God, I just miss him so much!"

Susan's eyes filled with pity for the poor girl; she moved immediately closer and wrapped her in a warm embrace, feeling her body shake with sobs. "There, there, darling, it was almost three years ago. There's nothing you can do about it. It wasn't your fault."

Hermione pulled back suddenly, eyes puffy and nose red. "I don't think we're talking about the same person."

Inwardly, Susan smiled. She had known that Hermione had left someone behind in England. She didn't know his name or anything about him, because Hermione didn't want to talk about him.

"Do you want to tell me about him?"

"He was the most amazing, gorgeous, and caring person that has ever lived. It all started out when I was at my first year of school in Europe…"

Hermione told Susan all about Harry, being careful not to mention his name. She was at the point in the story where she left Harry when a small pair of feet pattered into the living room. "Mommy?"

Hermione glanced, horrified, at her watch. She had been talking for two hours, and now her poor daughter was tired out of her wits. She looked at Izzy and something set in her mind. "Susan? Do you mind if Izzy stays with you tonight? I have somewhere I need to go."

"Oh, certainly, dear," Susan said, reverting into grandmotherly mode. "I would take her any day. Just call me and let me know when you will pick her up." (Susan was a Muggle.)

"Thanks so much, Susan!" Hermione stooped down and gave her daughter a kiss on the cheek. "Mommy will pick you up tomorrow, okay, sweetie?"

Izzy nodded, blinking blearily. "Bye, Mommy. Can I go to bed now, Grandma?"

Susan smiled softly. "Sure, sweetie." She went and gave Hermione another hug. "I'll see you tomorrow sometime, then? Remember, it's Saturday. You don't have to work."

"All right. Bye, Susan."

Hermione opened the front door and stepped out into the warm night. The ocean waves sounded in the distance as she walked back to her car and got ready for the long time to Ginny's house.

»»»

Harry croaked, "Ginny, I changed my mind. I don't hate you anymore."

Ginny smiled. "I know, Harry, I know. Why don't you come and sit down with me again? I haven't really talked to you in years."

"Sure," Harry said, feeling incredibly lighthearted. "And you can tell me where I can find her."

"Absolutely."

»»»

By the time Hermione reached Ginny's house, it was 11:00 at night. The sun had set. Tears were streaming down Hermione's cheeks as she thought of the foolish choices she had made. She had been so stupid! Now, though, it would all be okay. She would get Ginny to contact Harry for her, because Harry surely wouldn't want to talk to Hermione just yet.

She knocked on the door quietly, a fresh wave of sobs hitting her hard. Everything would eventually work out.

»»»

"So, look, Harry, Hermione lives in Rhode Island now. It's about a two-hour drive from here to there. You could probably make a day trip over, if that's what you wanted to do," Ginny was saying.

Harry was barely processing what she was saying. He was still in such blissful happiness over the fact that he had found Hermione again! He was only broken out of his reverie when a piece of wadded-up paper hit him square in the face. "What was that for!"

"You weren't listening or paying any attention, and when I tried to hand you her address you didn't respond."

"All right. So this is her address then? I'll just take a look at Shelley's map to figure out how to get there."

A knock sounded at the door. Ginny stood up. "Could you excuse me? Wow, it's late. I wonder who it is."

She stood up and walked down the hallway. Harry heard the door open, and a surprised Ginny saying, "Oh, no, you've had one of those days, haven't you?" There was some indistinct murmuring and Ginny said, "Come on, sweetie, you should sit down in the living room."

»»»

Hermione sat in a crumpled heap on Ginny's couch. It _always_ happened this way. She would go to Ginny's, totally composed, and by the time she arrived she would be a blubbering mess.

"Ginny, I've made such a stupid mistake! I just… I think back on all the things that we could have been doing. I have so many regrets right now. I just wish I could go and turn things around. I could go back there and I could've turned things around, or I could've made myself stay, or _something!_ But now I can't, and I'm old, and I don't know what I'm going to do with my life anymore. Everything is a mess."

Inside, Ginny was kicking herself for having been so supportive her friend all those years ago, when instead she could've spoken her mind. But now was not a time to look upon the past. "It's okay, Hermione, everything will turn out all right in time."

»»»

Harry sat at the kitchen table, tapping his finger. Ginny had been in the living room for quite some time now. He stood up and went upstairs to get Shelley. On the way out, he tapped on the door frame and Ginny, who was currently hugging a head of frizzy blonde hair, looked up. "I'm just going to go," he whispered. Ginny nodded, and Harry and Shelley made their way out of the house.

»»»

**Author's Note**: I only wish I could blame this on my beta not getting things back in time. Unfortunately, that is not the case. I'm just lazy. I'm sorry!

_Two weeks later_: So sorry about this. It's un-betaed because my beta hasn't responded. So... yup.

So, why didn't Ginny let Harry know that Hermione was sitting there? Why didn't Shelley recognize her cousin? Why wasn't Hermione's hair brown? What was the other man that Susan was referring to? FIND OUT NEXT TIME! Or, well… eventually…


End file.
